


no need to rush, love

by b_minor



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: COUNTER/Weight - Freeform, F/F, Post-Canon, Secret Samol, addressing important questions such as: "Do washing machines exist in C/w?"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 00:18:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13155129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_minor/pseuds/b_minor
Summary: Soft morning with Aria Joie and Jacqui Green, post-canon. For Secret Samol 2017!





	no need to rush, love

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for [@ketraiart](https://twitter.com/ketraiart)! I was delighted that you too were a connoisseur of Aria/Jacqui and domesticity and I hope I did them justice. Happy Secret Samol~

 

A younger Jacqui Green could never have imagined the reality of waking up with Aria Joie, former pop sensation and revolutionary, curled up against her:

1) She snores. Jacqui thought that people only snored if they had weak throat muscles? Shouldn’t someone who spent a majority of their life singing have the vocal equivalent of a rock hard six-pack?

2) She drools, sometimes. It’s actually pretty cute.

3) She steals the blankets all to herself, when the temperature drops enough. Which isn’t so much a problem since Jacqui herself tends to run warm, but it does make cuddling a bit of a challenge even with a pair of large mechanical arms. It being spring right now, and not very cold, Jacqui still has access to the comforter.

4) She loves being the big spoon, when they fall asleep. This suits Jacqui just fine.

5) She’s absolutely gorgeous. Younger Jacqui would agree with this, but perhaps not the the same reasons.

She would not, for example, even begin to understand the delight of seeing the faint beginnings of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, the bow of her mouth. They were features born of years spent carving out a future together from the aftermath of the chaos and reconstruction in the wake Rigour’s defeat. Of laughter and joy and a happy ending earned through hard work.

When Jacqui brushes a strand of hair away from her face, Aria wrinkles her nose. Smile widening, Jacqui continues on, tracing the contours of her partner’s face, featherlight, as wondrous as the first time they woke up in the same bed. Aria seems to find it ticklish as she gives a small grunt and turns over, the blankets curling over with her movement. After a beat, the snoring begins anew. Jacqui sits up, piling the rest of the covers over Aria’s sleeping form, and presses a kiss to her temple. Standing, she rolls her shoulders and stretches out the kinks in her limbs, then heads off to brush her teeth.

 

 

Aria steps out of the bathroom, slinging the towel around her shoulders like a small cape to wick stray water from her still-damp hair. One thing she didn’t miss about long hair: it took _forever_ to dry. She let it grow out again in retirement knowing that Jacqui loves playing with it. She follows the sweet, buttery aroma wafting from the kitchen to Jacqui. She’s humming a few bars from something they’d improvised last night, shimmying her hips from side to side. Aria saunters over, humming a harmony to the melody as she wraps her arms around Jacqui’s stomach, rising to the tips of her toes to rest her chin on her shoulder to peer down at the stovetop.

”What’s cooking, good looking?”

“Hm, that would probably get a seven out of ten for flattery and four out of ten for originality. Nice try though, babe.” With her chest pressed against Jacqui’s back, the vibrations of Jacqui’s amused hum echo their way to her as well. It feels nice, so she’ll forgive the verbal slight against her this time. “I’m making pancakes; found a bottle of syrup hidden in the pantry the other day and thought we should put it to use. Can you get the coffee started?”

“Mkay,” she replies. Aria gives Jacqui’s midsection a firm squeeze, nuzzling between her shoulder blades in satisfaction. “Just give me a few more minutes here.”

 

 

 

“I can’t believe you managed to get it everywhere,” says Jacqui. She leans against the washer as Aria sits atop, legs crossed and pulling off her shirt with a grimace. The sticky sound of syrup-soaked fabric peeling away from skin is not unlike tearing off a strip of duct tape, and is distinctly unsexy. Probably.

”I was _trying_ to be flirty, okay? How was I supposed to know that it wasn’t a squeeze bottle?” replies Aria. She leans down from her perch to open the loader and the shirt is tossed in, landing with a wet thud alongside the rest of the casualties of her syrup mishap. Aria fiddles with the controls despite the fact that the text is upside down from her current position. She mutters the steps to herself because that’s how she learns best. When she holds out her unoccupied hand, Jacqui takes it and smirks. Aria rolls her eyes at her, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You know I was asking for the detergent.”

“Gotta use your words to get what you want,” she says, pressing her lips against the cool metal (it’s still kind of sticky, but hopefully nothing had seeped into the wiring) before handing the container over.

Within seconds the washer activates with a bright chime of notes and sets to work. Aria unwinds from her seated position and drapes herself against Jacqui’s side. “Carry me to the shower? Please?”

Jacqui leans over, arms open and knees braced as Aria clambers into her arms, sticky and sweet. “As you wish, milady. Since you asked so nicely.”

“Oooh, I’m swooning.”

 

 

 

They’re tangled up on the couch, Aria slotted against Jacqui as she carefully gathers and parts her hair for a fancy braid she vaguely remembered from one of Aria’s old music videos. They’d initially planned to take a walk along the beach, but the breakfast and a second hot shower had left them warmer and sleepier than they had expected, so they content themselves with gazing out the open doorway to the sea, shimmering blue and endless along the horizon.

They have all the time in the world, now. Such things can wait.

 

 

**Bonus:**

 

_“Then darling, they’ll see,_

_The sails flowing free,_

_Rowing through starlight,_

_My sailor and me._

 

_And all through the night_

_They’re shining so bright._

_The stars are a sea_

_For my sailor and I--_

I? **I? _Iii…?”_**

“Hey babe, which sounds better?” Aria sings out the final line several times, experimenting with the way the notes flow from her lips. Under her, Jacqui pauses at the top of her four-hundred-fifteenth pushup, the number whistling out from between her teeth. She brings up one arm to wipe off a few stray droplets that had trickled down to the tip of her nose, which jostles Aria lightly but does not topple her from her back.

“I liked the second one best?” She whistles it, then goes back to counting pushups.

Aria repeats the melody to herself again, contemplating, then nods. “Yup, the second one. Also don't forget we're trying out that pilates routine Orth sent the other day once you're done here."

"Wouldn't dream of denying you a good view."

Aria smacks her wife's shoulder lightly. 


End file.
